The Musical Exploration of the Lord's Prayer - at last!

Night before event jitters don't usually include a temperature and an aching all over feeling. My stomach is nauseated, and I lie still in bed, wishing whatever this is to go away. Drew laughs at me and tells me I am just nervous for tomorrow, but I think this is the chemo finally hitting. The steroids have worn off, and I am experiencing what I usually do after a chemo session. Only delayed.

Deep breath. I have not come this far and gotten this close to give in to illness. But since I have no choice, I ask the Lord to take it away, then close my eyes and get as much rest as I can. I watch the clock flip through numbers until well after 1 am. No matter. I focus on the music and pray for good weather. The forecast does not sound encouraging.

I do not give in to discouragement, only let it spur me on to lift life to the Lord and leave it in his hands. I am confident that even if I do not feel well, God will give me the strength to do what needs to be done. And the people who need this sort of touch from God will come.

Morning worship is quiet. I encourage my singers not to push. My advisor and I partake a nourishing and leisurely lunch at the Chili Wegmans where they offer a wide variety of ready prepared hot dishes. Before I have time to blink, I am back at church and helping the quartet settle a few bumpy places.

Then to the fellowship hall where we do our limbering exercises and vocal warm ups. Half an hour to downbeat. We mill about, not nervous, ready, wanting to begin. And then, we are queuing up. I have no time for nerves. I must focus intensely to make sure everyone knows what to do, when to come in, where to move, or sit, or stand. Think clearly.

It is going well. The music sounds better than I have heard it before. Singers are focused, paying attention, singing from their hearts. The silences between pieces are not dead but pregnant with expectation and absorption. I experience that strange time warp music has a way of creating. I am in the moment, and time is both flying by and standing still.

Little things go astray. An early entrance here, an odd note there. Nothing major. Communion, the one part we did not rehearse, takes on a meaning of its own. We stumble a bit, but no matter. Participation straightens up the odd pauses. Petition follows petition in its good order. Does it make sense to listeners? Is it touching the spirits of participants? Is the Holy Spirit moving? I dare not think of those things yet.

And then, the final Amen sounds and we begin our recessional. One group at a time, we exit, blessing the congregation. "Go now in peace. . ." until we have all made our way to the fellowship hall where the United Methodist Women's organization has set a delectable spread of fruit, punch and cookies.

What great conversation buzzes around the room. I greet and hug and thank crowds of people, listening to their reactions. Worshipful. Very thoughtful. Uplifting. Great music. I really liked . . . yes - this is what I had hoped. Connection with the words, with the thoughts about the prayer. The presence of God. Peace. Good!

I will not listen to the recording until I need to. After all, I must eventually send it to the advisors who were not in attendance. There will be time for my own reflection later. Right now, my advisor and I have a dinner engagement to decompress. Yeah!